


When I'm Straight

by jeffersonhairpin



Series: No Lies, Just Love [4]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: (eventually) - Freeform, Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Depression, M/M, Pulling a Midnight Sun here I guess, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26102149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeffersonhairpin/pseuds/jeffersonhairpin
Summary: "Once he doesn’t come in for several days and Shauna fears the worst - no way that boy decided to get sober just like that. She’s seen enough to know.She places a bottle of his usual behind the counter like if she keeps it there he’ll justhaveto come and collect it. She refuses to imagine how it would feel putting it back out on the shelf if he never came back…"------Short, sweet, angst-fest from Elio's liquor store attendant's perspective in 'No Lies, Just Love' - can be read alone I think-
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Series: No Lies, Just Love [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619161
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	When I'm Straight

**Author's Note:**

> Had this written and collecting dust for a while - I figure I'm probably not going to add any more so I might as well post it now... I hope you like it!
> 
> (Title comes from [Some Velvet Morning](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J2rfZdqinIA) by Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood - though separately I recommend [Primal Scream's cover featuring Kate Moss](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iR7l__Florc))

Most of Shauna’s customers are just there to buy wine for their dinner. A few come in a little too often but they’re probably doing fine… And then there are the few who _need_ the product she sells to get through the day. 

Those range from nuisances to tragedies, though one in particular breaks her heart.

He used to be the first kind, seemingly coming in once or twice a month for beer and a bottle of whisky – she didn’t know him well back then, but she recognised him. Then he stopped bothering with the beer and just picked up the whisky. 

A little too often probably, but it’s more the haggard look that worries her.

…Then, like falling off of a cliff, suddenly he comes in all the time and she realises that he was looking like that because he was going to other stores, and he’s just finally given up that part of his dignity. 

Her heart breaks for the kid; he reminds her so much of her own son, though they look nothing alike…

The more she learns about him the more attached she gets, and as far as she can tell it’s all downhill from here. 

When she sees him begin to give her other regulars that downtrodden nod of acknowledgement they give her heart screams _‘no!’_ , but the fall continues anyway, getting steadily worse.

It’s just not her place to say anything, yet.

She wonders how he got here, because she’s heard him speaking to other customers in French and Italian, and he knew far more of the wine some lady demanded details about than Shauna did, and she’s heard him humming what she knows to be symphonies – she may not have a high class job but her mother made sure she knew some culture before she left this earth.

 _What happened to you, kid?_ she asks herself, though she knows the answer judging by his bouts of clear apathy and grief, and the way his frame goes from skinny to plain worrying in that way depressed people’s often do…

A face like that can’t help but be beautiful, but the beauty is unquestionably tarnished as she watches his cheeks hollow out and his eyes sink into their dark circles. 

He won’t tell Shauna his name but she still sees him in a very motherly way, tutting and clucking at him to take care of himself after a few months, though she knows he won’t. 

Some days he’ll talk to her relatively normally and they’ll have a conversation that makes her feel better even if she suspects that she’s the only person he’s spoken to that day… 

But as time goes on it’s much more likely he’ll stumble in drunk and trying to hide it or hungover and shaking.

It never stops breaking Shauna’s heart, but she still makes the effort to joke with him, to build a rapport to try to make him smile when he’s down, futile as that sometimes feels. She can’t help but imagine what would happen to her own son living the way this boy does, and it forces her to keep her hopes up for him even when her patience is short.

At least she gets to know him pretty well when his tongue is loose with his drink – her least favourite days are definitely the ones when he doesn’t say a word, just comes in barely brushing his tangled hair out of his face, and leaves without saying a word like a ghost. 

She worries for him like she doesn’t for many of her other customers.

He’s just so _young…_

Once he doesn’t come in for several days and Shauna fears the worst - no way that boy decided to get sober just like that. She’s seen enough to know.

She places a bottle of his usual behind the counter like if she keeps it there he’ll _have_ to come and collect it. She can’t imagine how she would feel putting it back out on the shelf if he never came back…

She’d have to buy it and keep it safe for him – or drink it herself if news reached her of the worst…

 _“Where_ have you been?” she demands, like a scolding mother, when he finally shuffles in on the fourth day looking like death - well, more than usual.

“Hospital...” he murmurs. 

“I fucked up,” he says, not meeting her eyes as he pulls out his money with shaking hands. 

“Oh, baby,” she says, her tone spinning on a dime. Her brows drawing together in frustrated sympathy as she rings up his bottle. He still doesn’t look up from the counter, his hair falling over his eyes.

She knows it’s still not her place to say anything, professionally speaking but she knows he’s not going to complain, and she may just be his cashier but he’s more than just a customer to her.

 _“Please_ go to a meeting or something,” she begs, her worry clear in her pleading tone. 

But her plea falls on deaf ears, as she knew it would.

“You know I’m not gonna do that Shauna,” he mumbles regretfully, still looking down, and gathering his change with trembling fingers that struggle to grip the notes and coins. 

“I know baby, but I have to try,” Shauna sighs. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“Okay…” he says quietly as he leaves, and she can tell that as much as this boy wishes everyone would just let him destroy himself in peace, it probably helps a little to know that even just the attendant at the liquor store cares if he lives or dies.

 _Hopefully that was a low, and not a new normal,_ she thinks as she watches him go, though she tries not to get her hopes up.

She knows something is wrong even for him one day when he stumbles in as hungover as she’s ever seen him and says when she begins to speak, “Not today Shauna, please, just— not today.” 

He takes a moment to push his hands into his face and breathe, the way someone trying to cope with torment often does.

She can tell he’s already pretty drunk and it’s only nine in the morning; she’s not seen her most precious customer precisely like this before…

She hopes he can make it to work if he has it today, because she doesn’t want to see what would happen if he lost his income.

She doesn’t know what she would do if he tried to steal from the store.

“Why do you do this to yourself, baby?” she asks, unable to hold it in.

“Because I want to fucking _die,_ Shauna,” he says in exasperation, as though it were obvious. 

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he visibly regrets saying what he’s said, his face pinched and his brow furrowed.

“I don’t know if I feel good about selling to you when you’re like this,” she says, slowly and warily.

“Do you _ever_ feel good about selling to me?” he bites acidly, frustrated. 

He’s never spoken to her this way before.

“Look, I’ll just go down the street if you won’t do it. Will you please just take my money and give me my bottle? I’m not going to—” 

He cuts himself off and takes another moment to breathe. 

“I just need to get through today,” he almost pleads.

She stares at him for a moment, worried at his tone and his desperation. She knows something has happened; this isn’t just any hangover…

But he’s right. 

If she doesn’t do it someone else will, so she might as well make the day a little easier for him. She knows addicts, and there’ll be no reasoning with him today.

She’s just a barrier between him and what he needs to escape his life right now.

“Okay,” she finally says reluctantly, and hands him the bottle. 

And then he’s out the door without another word.

Shauna is suspicious when the kid comes to her counter with four litre bottles a few months after that incident.

“Why so many?” she asks, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. “You’re not gonna do something stupid are you?”

But instead of being cagey or turning his face away before he lies, he smiles the most genuine smile she’s ever seen from him. It’s not a smile weighed down by the world, it’s real and excited. 

She can tell he’s a little drunk with how forthcoming he is, but she supposes if he’s not shaking he’s always a little drunk.

“I’ve gotta stock up, my uh… this guy is moving in and he’s out right now, so I’ve gotta hide them before he gets back.”

She tuts as she is wont to do and says, “Good luck,” with a pointed look, but then also, “This guy’s special then?” with a smirk and a raised brow as she rings up the total.

The boy blushes - _blushes!_

She didn’t know he could!

“He’s pretty special…” he admits bashfully, and Shauna’s face softens at that.

“I’m happy for you, sweetheart – truly…” she says, heartfelt. She still sighs as she places the bottles in a bag though. “You should still tell him though. He’s going to find out eventually.”

The blush leaves the boy’s face and his expression clouds, his whole demeanour turning angry as he thumps his money onto the counter and takes his bag, holding it in his arms so it doesn’t break under the weight of so much whisky. 

He mutters darkly on his way out.

“I know he’s going to leave when he finds out, everybody doesn’t need to fucking _tell_ me all the time…”

And then he’s gone, before Shauna can get another word in. 

She feels a little bad for bringing him down when she’s never seen him flying so high, but he can’t ignore reality, and she doesn’t want to see how bad he’ll get if someone he thinks is so wonderful leaves him after such hope.

She notices that he looks a little better for a while, and he doesn’t come by as often. 

It warms her heart every day she doesn’t see him, and it even warms her heart when she _does_ see him too, because his face seems less hollow each time, little by little. 

He even starts buying _wine_ with his whisky!

She’s just glad someone is taking care of this boy – whoever it is, they’re a good influence. 

A few weeks in he comes in with a tall, handsome man looking for a bottle of the good expensive wine, and he gives her this wide eyed look when the man isn’t looking, like he’s begging _for the love of god please pretend you don’t know me._

It confirms to Shauna that the boy must be as intelligent, interesting and most importantly, _good,_ as she’s believed him to be underneath it all, that he’s with this frankly Adonis-like man with the blinding smile. 

Because while the kid does have a tragic beauty to him and he’s looking better recently, he honestly still just looks sickly and bedraggled standing next to this man. 

They must really be in love, she thinks with a hidden smile.

She does as he’s silently asked and is politely professional with them, and then they’re gone, the boy shooting her a thankful look as they go. She sees him come in with the man a few times, and it makes her feel a little better about the situation for a while. 

…But then he goes downhill again, slowly. 

She can see it happening day by day.

He still probably doesn’t come in as often as he did before he was with his partner, but it’s definitely more than it has been. He never comes in with a bounce in his step anymore, he never smiles, and the hollows of his cheeks re-take territory little by little…

She frowns one day when he shuffles in looking half-dead for the third day in a row. 

Not necessarily extremely-hungover-half-dead, just… absent. 

“Honey did something bad happen?” she asks.

She wants to place a hand on his cheek like she would if he were her son, but she can’t do it at work, and if she could he probably wouldn’t want her to like this anyway.

He still hasn’t even told her his name.

He doesn’t respond at first and doesn’t lift his eyes when he does.

He just places his money on the counter and mumbles, “Not yet – keep the change,” before shuffling back out. 

Shauna never knows exactly where the kid is at. 

But then a few weeks later he’s seemingly miraculously just about back to where he was when his boyfriend moved in. 

Shauna hums in surprise when he does a little skip as he arrives at her counter, placing a fresh bill down, smoothing it out on the glass. 

“He still loves me,” he informs her with an excited smile.

“He knows?” she asks with raised brows.

“He found every single one of my hiding spots,” he says like it’s a normal thing, “And he told me he still loved me, and that he would wait.”

“I’m… happy for you?” Shauna says reluctantly as she hands him his change. 

“You should be,” he says, shine not dimmed by her uncertainty. He unscrews the top and takes a long draw as he walks backwards out of the store, calling out, “He still loves me!”

Shauna has never seen him… _jubilant,_ before, and she’s not sure she’ll ever see it again, but it’s enough to keep a little smile on her face for the next little while.

He’s not always like that afterwards. It goes more or less back to a version of normal – some days terribly depressed, some days having overdone it the night before, some days maybe not so bad… 

But it does get worse again.

 _It always does,_ she thinks. _Love can only do so much in the face of this boy’s sickness._

And that’s what she knows it to be.

He gets worse and worse again – pretty close to the worst she’s ever seen him. 

Once he’s even drunk enough that he lets his name slip.

Shauna thinks maybe _Elio’s_ partner has left him as things return to their old terrible normal, and then she counts four weeks since she’s seen him and her heart drops further each day. 

If that tall man left him, he might – would _probably,_ even…

She has to know. 

She knows it goes against every policy the store has, but… she does know where he lives. 

She happened to be walking in the same direction as him after work once and she saw which building he went into… she could go check.

Against all of her own self-preservation instincts Shauna finds herself standing at the door to the building, waiting for someone to come in or out. She doesn’t have to wait long thankfully, because she’s getting more and more anxious every minute. 

She shouldn’t be here but she has to be. 

The kind person doesn’t know anyone else in the building so Shauna finds herself going from door to door asking if there’s an Elio in – most people are confused or think she’s with the police despite her work uniform.

It takes a bit of doing but eventually someone directs her to the right door and she knocks, met by the tall, handsome man she thought had gone. 

A thrill of relief shoots through her for a moment, because if he’s here he’s not left Elio’s side, but… something could still have happened to him.

“Hi, um, I’m Shauna. You don’t know me,” she begins awkwardly. “But I’m… I know Elio and I haven’t seen him in a while and… Is he okay? Has something happened?”

She can see the confusion on the man’s face but it all becomes unimportant when she hears, “Who is it Oliver?” called tiredly from another room. 

Her heart shatters with relief.

“It’s Shauna, honey!” she calls out, just wanting to see his face. The man in front of her looks even more confused for a moment before he recognises her. 

“Oh, you work at the uh…”

And then he trails off, his expression clouding as he realises why she knows Elio so well.

“Shauna,” the boy calls gently as he pads over to the door. 

He looks probably the least sickly she’s ever seen him. Still pale and gaunt but… _blessedly_ alive. 

Shauna isn’t surprised to find her voice a little wobbly as she speaks.

“Can I give you a hug, baby?”

She’s strong but she’s known this kid, has seen him go up and fall down for two years, and _she thought he was dead._

“Of course,” he says kindly as he accepts her open arms, as though realising he should have said something or sent Oliver to deliver the message.

He never wanted to give her his name, but it wasn’t because he didn’t appreciate her caring or because he didn’t care about her…

He was just ashamed; he didn’t want her to know him, though he knew she did.

“Where have you been baby?” she asks a little tearfully over his shoulder.

“I’ve been getting better,” he says softly, in a tone she’s never heard from him before.

“Oh my Lord,” she says through a breath as she pulls back, wiping away the first tears and trying to get it together. “You’re going to meetings? Did you get into a program?”

“No, no nothing like that,” he says as he looks down and shakes his head. “Oliver’s been helping me.”

So the tall man’s name is Oliver. 

Elio and Oliver… It has a sweet ring to it.

She takes a moment to hold the boy at arm’s length and study him as though checking for injury. She’s never seen him be both this sober and this steady. 

_Is_ he sober?

“Did you—Are you…”

“I didn’t detox, Shauna. We’re just…” he trails off, his thought picked up by his partner.

“We’re going to slow to a stop,” he says calmly, looking proud.

But Shauna has seen people say they’ll slow down before.

“Oh, honey, that’s not always such a good way to—“

“It’s what I want,” Elio says firmly.

Shauna sighs. It’s better than she’s ever hoped for before, she supposes.

At the least he’s ready to _try_ to change.

“What are you going to do now?” she says finally, wiping her face and composing herself.

At that Elio smiles a little, warmly.

“We’re going back to my parents’ house, in Italy… It’s really beautiful there.”

Shauna can picture him in Italy, getting better, getting some sun…

“That’s good, Elio,” she says genuinely, her mind finally relaxing a little. His parents will take care of him, surely. “I’m glad you’re going home.”

They’re silent for a few moments before Shauna catches herself and takes in a sharp breath.

“Well!” she says suddenly. “I’ll uh, I’ll get out of your hair.” 

She finds herself suddenly a little flustered, realising how strange this all probably is. She has no idea if this boy knows just how much she’s cared about him.

Elio gives her a soft smile and says, “Okay.” 

But then he reaches out and takes her hand as she turns to leave. 

He squeezes it before he speaks.

“It means a lot that you cared to check,” he says earnestly. “It really does.”

It breaks her heart in the sweetest way to see in his eyes that he means it – she didn’t care so much for so long for nothing.

She’s not going to watch this boy drink himself to death after all.

Shauna just gives him a tight smile in return as she tries to keep the tears out of her eyes.

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

She cups his cheek the way she’s wanted to for two years now and rubs her thumb along its concavity, and then she walks away.

Years later Elio returns to the store where he went to gather supplies to destroy himself so often in the darkest time in his life – he wants to show Shauna how far he’s come, and hopefully see how proud she is of him to hear about it…

But when he asks, he’s told she doesn’t work there anymore, hasn’t for a while now.

It bruises a little to know he’ll never see her again, but he chooses to believe that it’s because she’s moved on to bigger and better things and smiles to himself as he walks back to where he and Oliver are staying for their visit.

Shauna still thinks about Elio from time to time, and she chooses to believe that about him too.

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me what you thought, I really do appreciate it ❤️❤️


End file.
